


Put a Ring on It

by Ferrero13



Series: Negative Control [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Anesthesia, Established Relationship, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6605293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferrero13/pseuds/Ferrero13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newton keeps putting two and two together to make three. Hermann watches on in amusement.</p><p>It turns out that post-op high is not an ideal condition for hitting on one's husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put a Ring on It

**Author's Note:**

> A slightly different take on my-spouse-doesn’t-remember-me-while-in-post-op-high. Except Newt’s high is probably more like self-deprecation. And apparently all Hermann needs to throw Newt off is to not sound German. I wanted to try this trope at least once.

Despite his very problematic leg and a hip that hurts even on a good day, Hermann isn’t actually surprised that the first of them to end up needing some form of surgery is Newton. The idiot drifted twice with a Kaiju, was elbow deep in Kaiju innards for the better part of ten years, and thinks candy floss makes a proper meal. It’s a wonder he’s managed to avoid the hospital for so long.

Much less of a wonder is Newton’s timing.

“Trust you to get appendicitis on our honeymoon,” Hermann mutters to himself as he settles down into the chair by Newton’s bed. The doctor has briefed him on the outcome of the surgery—successful—and the nurses followed by informing him that he can expect Newton to be “a bit out of it” when he reawakens due to the effects of the anaesthetic he was put under.

After he’s arranged his leg into a position that promises a difficult time walking—with the sort of chairs hospitals seem keen to subject their patients’ kin to, there’s no way there’ll be a position that leaves even able-bodied people feeling good—he pulls out a very worn copy of “A Brief History of Time”.

\---

“Was I stabbed?”

Hermann looks up from his book to see Newton blinking awake.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Hermann closes the book—as fascinating as it is, it can wait until he’s sure that Newton isn’t about to choke on his own saliva. “If you’d rather lose your life than your appendix all you had to do was tell me.”

“Are you my nurse?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Newton, but most people don’t enter a new line of work overnight.”

“Well, I didn’t know you weren’t a nurse before, but I wouldn’t be opposed to learning about what you did before you became my nurse. I’m sure I’ll find it all very agreeable,” Newton says, giving Hermann a very floppy smile.

Hermann admirably resists the urge to roll his eyes. He takes Newton’s spectacles from the bedside table and puts them on for him. Newton scrunches his nose just as Hermann sits them on his nose. “As ever, you can never be dissuaded from being both inappropriate and verbose.”

“What have I done right in this lifetime to deserve a nurse like you?” Newton says out of the blue.

“Killed somebody, probably,” Hermann deadpans, already regretting giving back Newton his sight.

“Don’t be like that. What’s your name, gorgeous?”

Hermann physically starts at that. It’s not like he doubts Newton when he tells him he loves the way he looks. It’s just that Hermann’s always assumed that Newton’s only grown to like his face because he’s had years working in the same lab to get used to it, and afterwards has no choice if he wants Hermann for everything else.

“Won’t you tell me? I’ll tell you mine,” Newton offers with that earnest smile of his.

“I know your name, Newton,” Hermann sighs.

“Oh, right, you’re my nurse.”

“I’m going to regret this, aren't I,” Hermann murmurs as he pushes his spectacles up to rub at the spots where they’ve been resting against his nose. “Hermann. My name is Hermann.”

Newton brightens pretty dramatically at that. “I know a Hermann!”

“Yes, I’d hope so; otherwise I’d have dropped a bomb on a hunk of metal for no reason.”

Newton gapes at Hermann. “You married me?”

“I don’t know. I’m beginning to doubt it happened. You don’t look so pleased about it.”

“Are you kidding me? You married _me_! Who in their right mind would marry me? Have you _met_ me? I have, like, ten different mental disorders and less vertical height than most people’s femur.”

Hermann frowns at Newton. “First of all, yes, I’ve met you. Second of all, I didn’t marry your tattoos, I married you. I knew what I was getting myself into, and, trust me, it’s been one of my best decisions.”

“Really? Oh my god, I must tell Hermann!”

“Yes, tell me more about what I just told you.”

“No, not you! There’s this guy—his name is Hermann, but he's German—he’s been my best friend since forever. We write to each other all the time.”

“Newton, I really doubt—”

“You don’t get it! I mean, I get that I’m married to you now, but he’s like the first guy to ever take me seriously. You must know this—I mean, we’re married. So, it’s not like you wouldn’t know about him. I must’ve told you about him. Did we tell him we’re married? I always thought maybe he and I, we’d—,” Newton cuts himself off abruptly. He doesn’t look as happy about their marriage as Hermann thought he would considering how hard Newton was coming on to him earlier.

“He knows,” Hermann just says.

“Oh.” Newton glances at his hands. “Did he—did he wish us well?”

“He does.”

“Sorry. We’re married and I just keep going on about this guy I’ve never actually met. I just—I know you must be a great guy. You married me, you must be. But—for the longest time I actually thought—actually, you know what, that’s not important. You probably already know all this. We’re married after all.”

“You keep saying ‘we’re married’ as if you can’t believe it.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m sorry if I’m not husband material.”

“It’s not you! I just had this—thing—for Hermann and, well, it doesn’t matter anymore now.”

Hermann hadn’t known that Newton had had a _thing_ for him. “What do you like about him?”

Newton looks upset. “I don’t want to talk about him to you. You don’t deserve it.”

“You don’t even know me. By all accounts you’re not wrong to care about him.”

“I don’t want to lose something good,” Newton whispers. “You’re a good thing. Even if I don’t know you.”

“Nothing you can say about Hermann will stop me from loving you, you utterly unobservant fool,” Hermann says, resting a hand on Newton’s shoulder. He plucks Newton’s glasses off. “Rest. You need it.”

For a moment, Newton looks like he wants to do the exact opposite, then he sinks back into the bed. “Will you read to me? You were reading earlier.”

“If you’re sure you won't tell me it’s boring like you’ve been doing for the past decade.”

“I’m sure your beautiful voice will make up for it.”

Hermann snorts. “Very well. I’ll start from where I left off. It is a bit like the well-known horde of monkeys hammering away on—”

“Is that ‘A Brief History of Time’?” Newton interrupts.

“I wasn’t aware you’ve managed to make your way through half the book, much less know it well enough to recognise it from half a sentence.”

Newton gives a short, awkward laugh. “It’s Hermann’s favourite book. I read it the day he first mentioned it.”

“Good lord, you had it bad. If only I had known.”

“I’m sorry,” Newton mumbles.

“No, don’t be. I’m glad you liked me so much. I didn’t expect that.”

“I—wait, what?”

Hermann smiles, lifting his cane in one hand and the book in the other. “I’m also a mathematician. I’m sure it’s too much of a coincidence for another Hermann to have this much in common with yours.”

Newton blinks stupidly at Hermann. “Oh, my god. You don’t mean to say that I—that we—”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god, oh my god. I married _Hermann_.”

“So it would seem. And Hermann married you. Go to sleep, Newton.”

“Oh my god,” Newton continues to mutter as relaxes into his pillow, staring at Hermann like Hermann holds the secrets to the origin of life in his eyes. “Oh my god. Hermann married _me_.”

Hermann presses a kiss to Newton’s forehead, and Newton looks like he might combust. “Rest.”

“ _Hermann married me_.”

“I’m glad you find this so amazing, but you really do need your rest. I’ll be here when you wake, Newton.”

“Oh my god, I married Hermann, oh my god.”

Hermann’s leg still aches, but it’s not enough to wipe the smile from his face. He settles in, reading with the sound of Newton’s mutters of disbelief in the background.


End file.
